Anyways. Today I had one of those days that give you lots to think about. On the tram into my GP appointment there was a young woman who was having some kind of episode. I’m no medical professional so I can’t say that for sure, but she seemed to be stuck in a verbal tirade, accusing the man with her and pretty much everyone in the whole world of all kinds of things. Apparently here in Australia we’re being taken over by Asian people (yeah I know, ugh) but, despite her self-professed being white, in her own words she will make it through as she’s special and indestructible. And possibly because she’s American and will head back there at some point. Basically she was saying that we’re all doomed and complained about how dirty the air is in Melbourne (?!). Oh and apparently she has some psychic power over the police so she can always talk herself out of any situation…
The egotism and self-aggrandising (that may be tautology?) displayed in her speech made me laugh a bit and I was worried she might hear and start on me. It sounded like a well rehearsed but also random string of verbalised thoughts which just kept coming. I wondered how she was even able to breathe as she didn’t seem to have time to. Her outward thoughts went on for the 20 minutes that I was on the tram until I got off to see my GP. I was glad to have the relative silence of my own thoughts back.
As usual I was early to the GP so I went for a walk to clear my head. I ended up still early to the appointment and took my favourite spot in an unusually empty waiting room. My GP’s pretty popular and there have been times I’ve waited an hour to see her. I’m glad I was early this time though. A lady (I won’t give her name) came in and sat near me and struck up a conversation, asking how long I’d been seeing my doctor (about 10 years maybe?) and then we exchanged pictures of dogs, I of my dog nephew Hank and she of her puppy. She was a nice lady and had lovely bright pink lipstick. We both had anxiety in common but mine’s pretty much under control for now.
Our conversation was cut short by said GP calling the lady in.
When her appointment was done I said I hoped she felt better and wished her good luck.
My appointment with my doctor went well; I’m not sick but my PMS has been knocking me about, causing depression and exhaustion – but only for a week, stupid hormones. So we tossed a few ideas around. One was the Mirena, an IUD that has been getting a lot of positive press lately. My GP had forgotten we’d already tried that maybe five years ago and it was a disaster. Sure it works brilliantly for a lot of people but not for me. No matter. I suggested a low dose of the pill even though I don’t really want to take it. Pretty much we’ve tried most things to stop my ovaries from being the lady parts from hell. What we came up with was me trialling a low dose of Zoloft, which might offer the double punch of helping my anxiety whilst also treating my PMS symptoms. And that was that.
On the way home I thought about both women I’d encountered that day; the one on the tram and the one in the waiting room. It made me think about why I hadn’t approached the lady on the tram to ask if she was OK. Why do we extend our hand to one person and not another? Is it because when someone seems a bit unbalanced and act that out in a very public way it’s less socially acceptable than someone who is quieter about what’s going on? Like I said, I’ve no idea what was going on with the first lady, but what if she was having a really bad time because of the drugs she’d taken (not an assumption – she verbalised that to everyone on the tram)?
I totally wanted to ask the lady in the waiting room for her Instagram handle and extend a hand of friendship to her. But the lady on the tram I wanted to run from, as I did with the man on the tram back who grumbled to himself and had to be talked to by the driver for sticking his parts (not rude ones) out the window. Now I’ve been home a few hours and been reminded about the community nature of my lovely city by this article, I’m going to reassess my behaviour and think about how I can be a little bit nicer to everyone. I generally try to be nice, but today got me a little bit flummoxed by my seemingly double standards.

And here’s a picture of Hank, which always makes stuff better. He’s the one on the right.